Chapter 4
I hadn't heard Gloria Bennett's voice in three weeks.
My mother-in-law usually called every Sunday.
She liked to ask whether I was eating properly.
Whether Marcus was working too hard.
Whether we planned to give her grandchildren.
I had always answered politely.
But that night, hearing her voice behind Marcus made my stomach tighten.
"Gloria?"
Silence.
Then Marcus said, "Mom, please."
I sat upright.
"Your mother is there?"
He sighed.
"Nia, this is complicated."
I looked at Patrice.
She folded her arms.
"Put Gloria on the phone."
Marcus hesitated.
Then I heard movement.
A moment later, Gloria spoke.
"Nia, sweetheart."
I closed my eyes.
"Don't call me sweetheart."
She went silent.
I took a breath.
"What did Marcus sign?"
Gloria began crying.
I felt cold.
"Nia, we never wanted to hurt you."
That sentence frightened me more than anything else.
People only said it when they had already done something terrible.
"Tell me."
She hesitated.
Then whispered, "Marcus borrowed money."
I stared at the wall.
"How much?"
Silence.
"Gloria."
"One hundred and eighty thousand dollars."
My heart stopped.
I looked at Patrice.
Her mouth fell open.
I forced myself to breathe.
"One hundred and eighty thousand?"
Gloria began sobbing.
"His business investment went wrong."
I stared at the phone.
Marcus worked for a commercial real estate firm.
He had never told me about a private investment.
"What investment?"
Marcus took the phone back.
"Nia, I was trying to build something for us."
I felt anger rise.
"What?"
"A property development project."
I closed my eyes.
"Without telling your wife?"
He sighed.
"I wanted it to be a surprise."
I almost laughed.
A surprise.
That word had become unbearable.
I had driven to Savannah to surprise my husband with a romantic weekend.
He had surprised me with an affair.
An unauthorized credit account.
And now a massive secret debt.
"Marcus, who lent you the money?"
He hesitated.
"A private investor."
"What was the collateral?"
Silence.
My stomach tightened.
"Marcus."
He whispered, "The townhouse."
I couldn't breathe.
I stood so quickly that Patrice reached for me.
"Our house?"
"Nia—"
"You used our house?"
He began speaking rapidly.
"It was supposed to be temporary. The project was going to pay off the loan."
I felt tears streaming down my face.
"Did you forge my signature?"
He went silent.
I closed my eyes.
"Answer me."
His voice broke.
"I signed your name on some documents."
Patrice covered her mouth.
My hands began trembling.
I looked around the hotel room.
The walls seemed to move.
I had spent years building our home.
Choosing furniture.
Painting rooms.
Saving for renovations.
Every corner contained a memory.
And Marcus had placed it at risk without my knowledge.
I took a breath.
"Do not contact me again tonight."
"Nia, please."
"Any communication about money or property goes through my attorney."
Then I ended the call.
I stared at the phone.
Patrice moved closer.
"Sit down."
I shook my head.
"I can't."
She held my shoulders.
"Nia."
I looked at her.
My voice broke.
"He used our house."
She pulled me into her arms.
I cried until my chest hurt.
The next morning, Evelyn arranged an urgent meeting by video call.
Patrice sat beside me.
I explained what Marcus had admitted.
Evelyn listened carefully.
Then she said, "We need to verify the loan documents immediately."
I nodded.
"Can he legally use the house without me?"
"That depends on how the property is titled and what documents were executed. If he forged your signature, that's a serious issue."
I swallowed.
"Can we stop anything from happening?"
"We can take steps to challenge unauthorized documents and protect your interests. But first, we need the records."
She contacted the county records office and arranged for copies of any recorded instruments.
We also requested information from the lender.
By afternoon, we had preliminary documents.
My name appeared on a security agreement.
My signature appeared beneath Marcus's.
I stared at it.
It looked almost perfect.
But I knew I hadn't signed it.
Evelyn recommended a forensic document review and formal notification of the dispute.
I agreed.
Then she asked something unexpected.
"Nia, do you know a company called Reed Property Holdings?"
I frowned.
"No."
She looked at the loan paperwork.
"It's listed as an entity connected to the development project."
My heart began pounding.
"Reed?"
"Yes."
I looked at Patrice.
Vanessa Reed.
The woman in the burgundy dress.
The woman who had stepped out of the elevator holding my husband's arm.
I felt sick.
"Evelyn, can you find out who owns it?"
"We can review available corporate records."
An hour later, she called back.
"Nia, I found the filing."
I gripped my phone.
"Who owns it?"
She hesitated.
"Vanessa Reed is listed as a managing member."
My stomach tightened.
I stared at the wall.
Marcus had borrowed money against our home.
He had opened a credit account in my name.
And the real estate project was connected to the woman he'd been sleeping with.
I felt anger rise.
But something else bothered me.
Vanessa had seemed genuinely shocked to see me.
She had believed Marcus was separated.
Was she part of the fraud?
Or had Marcus lied to her too?
I needed answers.
That evening, Vanessa contacted me.
Her message was brief.
NIA, I KNOW YOU HAVE NO REASON TO TRUST ME. BUT THERE'S SOMETHING YOU NEED TO SEE.
I stared at it.
Then another message appeared.
MARCUS HAS BEEN LYING TO BOTH OF US.
I took a slow breath.
I forwarded the messages to Evelyn.
She advised me to communicate carefully and preserve everything.
Then I replied.
WHAT DO YOU WANT TO SHOW ME?
Vanessa answered immediately.
THE INVESTMENT CONTRACTS.
My heart began pounding.
A second message followed.
AND PROOF THAT YOUR HUSBAND WAS PLANNING TO LEAVE YOU WITH THE DEBT.
I stared at the screen.
For several seconds, I couldn't move.
May you like
Then I realized that the affair might be only one part of a much larger plan.
And I had been the person expected to pay for it.
